


try one more time tomorrow

by abigailcathleen



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, bon appetit test kitchen, listen... i love ba so much ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigailcathleen/pseuds/abigailcathleen
Summary: When Billy gets home from work, Steve is curled up on the couch and Claire is making Starbursts.It’s one of those days.





	try one more time tomorrow

When Billy gets home from work, Steve is curled up on the couch and Claire is making Starbursts. 

It’s one of those days. 

Over the past couple of months they’ve lived together, Billy’s gotten to know how to spot when Steve is having a_ day. _

It’s not like before they moved in, Billy didn’t know Steve had these days sometimes. It’s just, before, Steve would leave his messages on read, cancel their plans. Kiss him longer, more pointed, deeper the next time he saw him, hug him tight to his body for longer than usual. Wouldn’t mention it past apologizing for ghosting on him the past couple days. 

The first time it happened when they moved in, Steve had tried his best to hide it. Curled away from Billy a bit in bed, kissed him hurried on the cheek after grabbing his toast from the toaster. When Billy asked him what was up, he just picked up his coffee and avoided Billy’s gaze. Told Billy he was just feeling a little tired, nothing to worry about. 

Billy had gone to work at the garage on East 30th and tried to ignore the creeping feeling in his gut. He was so out of it that his boss Dimitri whacked him with his towel, told him to take the rest of the afternoon off, kid. He drove straight to the café Steve worked at near there apartment, but when he got to the counter, Nora told him that he called out sick. 

When he threw the door to the apartment open, Steve was curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor, shaking. Billy crouched in front of him and said his name softly before Steve launched at him, sobbing. Said he was going to light a candle, his therapist had told him when he got like this, dissociating, that he could try lighting a candle. Listen to the crack of the flame. Fill the apartment with the smell of warm amber and vanilla. _ Ground _ himself. But today, he flicked the Bic lying on the counter and couldn’t handle the flame. Remembered the shrill noise when they burnt _ that thing. _ Billy held him, rocked him, whispered into the mess of his hair that when Steve feels like this, Billy wants to know. Wants to _ help_. 

It’s not like Billy can make this all go away for Steve, no matter how much he _ wants _ to, but he thinks, at the very least, he’s maybe made it a bit easier for Steve. Because he doesn’t have to go through it alone. And slowly, Steve seemed to not necessarily have less _ days, _but some weren’t as bad as they could’ve been.

And Billy knows it’s that kind of day, the kind where Steve could find a bit of the way out, when he sees Steve with slightly puffy eyes, pink around the edges, on the couch in front of an episode of that YouTube show he likes playing on the TV screen, the one with that girl Claire (_ with an ‘I’ _ , Steve told him last time he made Billy watch an episode, one with Doritos, _ the cool way _ ) in a blue apron. Bowls scattered around her on the counter. Steve started watching this channel obsessively months earlier, especially this series. Told Billy it made him feel _ warm. _ That they were all so bright and kind that it made him feel _ safe_. 

Steve’s got a joint started, hanging loose in the fingers of his right hand, red Bic on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Hey, baby,” Billy says slowly, in the soft way he knows to use when Steve’s not feeling too hot, after he’s dropped his keys in the dish and toed off his boots. “Can I join ya?”

When Steve turns his head to nod, it’s slow and tired. Billy’s thankful for the invitation.

He curls up beside Steve, snaking an arm around his waist to pull him close, so Steven can tuck under his chin, leaning a bit on his chest. Holding him firm, warm and solid.

“Claire’s making Starbursts,” Steve says, passing the joint to Billy. He sniffs. 

“I can see that.” Billy places the joint between his lips, snatches the lighter off the coffee table with his free hand, careful not to jostle Steve too much. 

“Hey.” Steve’s voice is low. He clears his throat a bit. “Could you turn your head a bit? Just to light it. Closed my eyes to light it earlier. Today’s just,” he trails off. 

Billy talks around the joint. Nods at the screen where Brad’s beside Claire, trying whatever batch of this stuff she’s on. “Whataya think?” Billy says. “Think I could rock a hat like that?”

Steve locks his eyes ahead and Billy turns to the side, lights the joint and takes a pull. Sets the lighter back down on the coffee table gently before letting out the smoke then turning to Steve. Billy presses his fingers where they’re clutching at Steve’s side, letting him know he can look. Billy offers the joint to Steve who takes it. 

“Maybe.” Steve’s lips turn up a bit at the sides, the first time Billy’s seen since he’s been home, probably the first time all day, Billy imagines. His voice is rough and it’s definitely for the same reason his eyes are red and puffy, but Billy thinks it maybe turns a little raspy, more intentional. “Might be kinda hot.” He chuckles softly and Billy’s heart clenches in his chest. 

Steve takes a hit and holds it, setting the joint in the ashtray on the table, and Billy goes slack when Steve tugs slightly on his white t-shirt to get him to lean in, so Steve can feed the smoke past his lips. Billy rests his lips slightly touching Steves, breathes the smoke in before blowing it out in a sheet between them. Staying still but not wanting to push Steve. Rejoices inside when Steve leans in and kisses him for real, warm and firm. 

He pulls back after a moment and rests his forehead and Billy’s. “Today’s been hard.” 

Billy hums before moving in to kiss him again. “Glad I’m home.” 

“Could you just,” Steve starts. “Could you just stay with me for a bit? Hold me?”

Billy nuzzles his nose against Steve’s, so soft, so damn _ fond. _“‘Course I will, baby.”

They break apart and Steve settles back into position, curling further into Billy’s stomach and clutching at his shirt. Billy breathes with Steve for a minute, guiding him along. 

“She said she’s just gonna make one more batch tomorrow, but there’s like,” Steve says, picking up the remote of the couch and hitting the centre button. “Twenty something minutes left of the episode.”

Billy presses his lips to Steve’s hair. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Never a good sign,” Steve agrees, and Billy thinks he maybe can hear a hint of a smile. 

Billy feels more than hear’s when Steve laughs, when Claire soon says, _ because I’m a prisoner of my own brain, I decided to try one more time tomorrow. _

Steve hums, sounding to Billy something close to _ content, _ but when he talks, Billy can still hear the strain in Steve’s voice, because on days like this he’s almost perpetually on the edge of tears. “That’s what this feels like, sometimes. You know. _ Prisoner of my own brain._” 

Billy wishes he had something better to say. Wishes he could just make this all go away, wishes he could make sure Steve never cries or hurts or suffers like this ever again. 

“I know,” he says, turning his head to press his forehead against Steve’s temple. “We’ll just have try one more time tomorrow, huh?”

Steve twists and kisses Billy at that, tugging at his lower lip and making the inside of Billy just _ glow. _Kisses him over and over, more desperate than before, but still soft. Billy feels the wetness spread lightly on the tops of his cheeks. 

“Love you,” Steve breathes when he pulls away. Settles even closer to Billy, clutching harder.

“I love you, too, baby.” Billy drops a final kiss to his hair while Claire pulls the failed supposedly _final _ (it’s never the final) batch out of the baking tin. “So, let’s get back to that _ hat_.”

**Author's Note:**

> my coping mechanism of choice is getting high and watching gourmet makes... and now it's steves. 
> 
> @abigailcathleen for silly reblogs


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